


more than you could ever know

by endquestionmark



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endquestionmark/pseuds/endquestionmark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones is too busy studying to have sex.  Jay Kirk takes things into her own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	more than you could ever know

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic started [here](http://endquestionmark.tumblr.com/post/38756709014/walfs-replied-to-your-post-increasing-urge-to) and is basically for [Kacey](http://walfs.tumblr.com/) and [Mochi](http://wintersold.tumblr.com/), who _suck_ <3333.

Bones is studying.

Bones has been studying for the last half an hour, and it’s driving Jay to distraction.

“Booooones,” she says, for the thirtieth time. “ _Booooooooones._ ”

“Dammit, Jay,” he says, for the thirty-second time (the first time was when she came in and the second was between her sixteenth and seventeenth time, when she’d gotten sick of her uniform and had stripped down to her underwear). “I’m _studying_.”

“No shit,” she says, face half-mashed into the carpet. She’s also gotten sick of sitting upright. “Were you planning on actually stopping at any point? You know, to do real-life things? Like food? Or _me_?”

“We can’t all be genius-level smart-ass upstarts,” Bones grumbles.

“Awww,” she says. “I think that might just be the sweetest insult ever. I knew you cared!”

“I’m _busy_ ,” he repeats, and she rolls over. The side of her face is stinging. She probably has the design on the carpet embossed on her cheek, and now her bun is digging into the back of her head. It’s all his fault.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “I’ll just keep being one with the floor.”

Thing is, she really does enjoy spending time with Bones. She likes watching him try to cook in the tiny kitchenette attached to his room, and she likes arguing politics with him, and she likes riding him when she’s got his wrists pinned down and he arches like she’s sent lightning down his spine.

She even likes watching him study, but for fuck’s sake. She’s been in lecture for the last two hours, the former half of which she’d spent in idle contemplation of exactly how to reward herself for not asking any important but utterly derailing questions, and the latter half of which she’d spent trying not to get utterly mentally derailed herself by contemplation of the former, and right now all she wants to do is tackle him and kiss him breathless and then maybe ask him to eat her out until she screams.

She asks him.

“I’m _studying_ ,” he repeats, and that’s the last straw.

“Fine,” she grumbles, and rolls over again, going for her bag, which is somehow under the bed. How did it get there? One of life’s great mysteries. “I’ll just take care of it myself.”

“Fine,” Bones mutters, shuffling stacks of notes, and she grins, hand curling around exactly what she’s looking for, and pulls it out of her bag with a flourish.

“You carry that to class?” Bones says, apparently not as focused as he appears to be.

“Be prepared for all situations,” she says, looking at him innocently. Her favorite vibrator is blue and curved, one thick round nub at the tip, curling up like the neck of a violin, and another closer to the base. It’s waterproof and shockproof and pretty much indestructible, as she’s found out the hard way. “You don’t mind?”

“If it’ll stop you pestering me, I couldn’t care less,” he says, and looks back at his notes.

Jay doesn’t like not being looked at. She kneels upright and tugs the tie out of her hair, finger-combing it out to hang in big loose curls around her shoulders. Bones shifts in his chair and she thinks about that, thinks about her making him shift, making him hard in his uniform pants, and she curls fingers in her hair and tugs a little, thinking of how he’d sound if she were between his legs right now. There’s heat in her cheeks and between her legs, and she trails her hand down from her hair, across her chest, to stroke her thumb along the curve of one breast.

He’d still be holding papers, she imagines, and she’d press her thumbs into his inner thighs, and he’d crumple them a little. That starts her thinking about his fingers, the calluses of them, and she slips a hand inside her bra, cupping her breast, stroking across her nipple. She gasps at the sensation and the softness of it, and pinches hard. She wishes it were him, his tongue, his lips, tugging at her and working her raw, him exhaling across her skin just to make her gasp.

When she looks up again, he’s still not looking at her, but it’s in that special way, that sort of _I said I’m not looking at you so I won’t look at you and yet_ way, and that makes her wetter than ever, the idea that he wants to look, but. But. That’s Bones all over, stubborn as hell, and he makes her desperate, he makes her loud, he makes her put on a show. Her underwear are probably already ruined, she can feel it, and she rubs the pad of her thumb across her nipple again and then slides two fingers under the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her thighs, rising up on her knees to do so.

“ _Dammit_ , Jay,” Bones says, still looking at the opposite wall.

“What?” she says. “ _If it stops you pestering me, I couldn’t care less_ , that was you, right?” She traces the tip of the vibrator along the crease of her thigh, drags it through the gathered wetness between her legs, back to front, back to front, and the word _right_ breaks off on a gasp as she rubs across her clit, once, twice.

“Damn right it was,” Bones says, on reflex, and she can see his grip on his pen tighten as his brain catches up with his mouth. She grins. “Just - be quiet about it, all right?”

“All right,” she agrees, and flicks the vibrator up to its lowest setting, rocking back and forth a little. It’s good - it’s slow, but good, like getting herself off on her fingers in the shower, and she bites down on her lower lip to keep from gasping again. It’s certain and steady and slow, and this is how she wants it - her taking her time, and him knowing it, knowing it’s for him. She knows what it does to him when she luxuriates in sex, and she loves watching him come apart, a bit at a time. She thinks about it, about the small noises he makes, the way his eyes fall shut and the line of his neck, kiss-marked. She can feel her orgasm building, like a cluster of sparks, and she can’t help the small noise she makes in the back of her throat as she moves faster.

In the end, she flicks the setting up, and the throb of the motor sends her over the edge, a lazy pulse as she presses down hard, hips jerking and eyes closed, and exhales hard on a consonant. She can feel the scrape of the carpet on her knees and the back of her hand, the beginning of an ache in her thighs, and, through the blur of it, she realizes she’s flicked the setting up again, to something a little more demanding.

There’s the crumple of paper at the desk, and she’d feel a lot more triumphant if she wasn’t still riding out the waves of her first orgasm, still over-sensitive and nearly keening at the continued pressure on her clit. It’s so good, but so nearly too much, like a live wire, and she comes hard and fast, as though it’s been wrenched out of her, breath for breath. It feels like she’s just run stairs, the strain of it, the way it steals her breath, and she whites out for a moment. 

She comes back to herself in a rush, as if she’s gotten up too quickly, gasping for air, and lists to the side, slumping against Bones’ bedpost.

“Didn’t I say be quiet about it,” Bones says. His knuckles are white, but he still has a hold of his pen, to his credit, and all his papers are still on the desk and in neat piles. Jay decides she’s going to have to change that.

“That wasn’t loud!” she says. “You know that wasn’t loud.”

“Not in my books,” Bones says, and promptly turns back to them.

“I’ll show you loud,” Jay mutters.

++

She shows him loud.

She shows him loud with her panties still hooked around one ankle, slumped back against the wall, rolling her hips to get just the right pressure, just there, and then rocking back to let the curve of the vibrator brush against her clit. Two settings up, the vibrator is audible, and she presses the heel of her hand against the base of it, harder, harder, more. She can feel it inside and outside her, and she’s almost shaking in rhythm with it, with just how much she needs this. She moans in frustration.

Bones knocks a stack of books off his desk. “That really wasn’t quiet,” he says, voice rough.

She’d have a snappy comeback if she weren’t about to come for the third time, still wrung out from the last one, and Bones starts to get up.

“Ah,” she gasps, and then pulls herself together enough to finish the sentence. “Nuh-uh, Bones,” she says, drawing out the syllable. “Didn’t you have studying to do?”

“No,” he says, and she holds up a finger, still slick-shiny.

“I believe you were busy for a _test_ ,” she continues. “Want to prove you’re done with those books?”

He actually growls at her, and she bucks a little, head thumping against the wall. “Fine,” he snarls, and picks up a page of notes. “Psychology, the science of behavior and mental processes -“

“Mm,” she says, breathless. “Say that again.”

“Psychology,” he says, quizzical, and then catches on. “Psychology,” he drawls, voice dropping a bit more, “mental processes: sensation, perception…” She can see his throat working around the words, and she quickens her pace. “God,” he says, and she’s about to chastise him, at least as well as she can from here, but he goes on. “God, you’re a fucking _tease._ ”

“I aim to please,” she gasps.

“Don’t you just,” he says. “God, I want to taste you. Can I taste you? Please?” His voice is low and desperate and utterly without guile. “Please,” he repeats.

And that’s it, that’s what knocks the breath out of her, makes her come apart gasping, begging, _please_ , back arched and head thrown hard back, one hand pressed into the ground and the other between her legs. It’s waves and waves of pleasure she feels along her spine, drowning her out, and then he’s there, pulling the vibrator from between her legs - she gasps - and replacing it with his fingers, curling a hand around her ankle and holding her legs open as he licks at her. 

He goes slow, stroking and hooking his fingers just enough to carry her through the aftershocks, and then he tastes her in long stripes up the inside of her thighs, pulling at her folds with kisses that make her arch and cleaning her up a little at a time. “Thank you,” he whispers, and she loses track as he begins to work in earnest, the burn of three fingers and the curl of his tongue and, at the very end, teeth, a bite sucked into her inner thigh, the ache of it a counterpoint to his thumb on her clit and his fingers inside of her as she comes so hard she nearly sobs.

++

She drifts back to herself curled on his bed, on top of the covers - no doubt a sticky mess by now - and stretches, lazy and content.

Bones is sitting in his chair again.

“C’mere,” she says, arm flopping across his pillow to beckon. “Seems we’ve still got something to take care of.” She promptly adds, “Your dick.” She’s never been a huge fan of subtlety.

“Oh, I’ll take care of it,” he says, smirking.

She _hates it_ when he’s wicked. She loves it. She wants him to fuck her senseless.

“Just be quiet about it,” she says, brushing her hair out of her face as he raises a hand to his collar, starts undoing buttons. “And save some for me.”

“Oh, I think I can manage that,” he says.


End file.
